


Say Something

by Bigmurderenergy



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Descriptions of Nudity, I can't even begin to describe it, I know right?, I mean, Just Read It If You're Curious, M/M, also potential mentions of past abuse, if only because I swear a bit, it gets daring I swear, it got so out of hand, its essentially a conversation between a real person and a fake one, just be careful if you're also dealing with some stuff, just don't expect it to make much sense, meta as hell?, my bad - Freeform, no detail, teen audiences, this got so meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 02:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bigmurderenergy/pseuds/Bigmurderenergy
Summary: OK, I'm going to be completely honest. Well, not completely. But my point is. I'm dealing with a lot right now. And I'm not writing that into a story. I'm just coping. And apparently, a version of Wade Wilson has been helping me with that. So. Yep. It's what he would have wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

OK here we go.

So this fic, and it absolutely is fanfic. Is a Deadpool/Spider-Man one. I’ll be doing it from Wade’s perspective because. To be quite honest, of the two he’s experienced the most trauma. Unlike Peter though, he’s had a lot more time to figure out his coping mechanisms, humour, the boxes, mostly just hurting himself in a variety of colourful ways, hey I didn’t say he was healthy. To clarify, none of this is particularly healthy. But nor is it dangerous. Also I gotta clarify, both these guys are completely consenting. They’ve certainly had sex in the past, this is not the first time. I hate first time fics mostly because they’re so rote. Like, I get it. You gotta start somewhere. And first times are normally pretty awesome because of these new experiences you get to share with someone you like for the first time. I get it. It’s fun. It’s particularly fun because it’s new. But that’s not what this is.

Oh, this would be pretty good to re-edit and just start the fic like this. I mean, Wade likes breaking the fourth wall. And this could just be the boxes in his head.

“I mean, we could do that?”

We could. This is gonna be so fucking weird.

“You’re telling me.”

So where do we start?

“Well. Petey just kissed me.”

He did?

“Yeah, through my mask. It was kinda gross. But also warm. And a bit wet.”

Oh. Nice.

“Sure. Nice. Nice is the word we’re going for here. Nice.”

It wasn’t?

“It was fucking spectacular. Have you _seen_ Peter Parker? Like really seen him!? He’s freakin’ beautiful. Like all this spry youthliness. All hair. Big brown eyes. Amazing tush. Like. I really. I know. I mean.”

Are you ok?

“Not really my dude. I’m hiding in his bathroom currently. He’s knocking on the door. I mean I know what’s gonna happen when I leave this room. I know what we’re going to do. I mean you know too. You know.”

What do you think is gonna happen, Wade?

“We’re gonna fuck. And it’s going to be fucking spectacular. It’s gonna be filthy. So filthy in fact I’m concerned that I’m going to have to talk to a priest or nun or something after. I mean, not to apologise for the sins I’ve committed. Just to, you know, let them know. Just catch up. Just…”

And?

“And what my man? Are you a man actually? In this version of reality? Where we’re talking? Are you actually a dude? I can switch it up if not. I mean it doesn’t bother me. I mean, guuuuuuuuuuurl. You get it, right?”

I’m a woman.

“Holy SHIT. Really!? Dude that’s so awesome! Oh wow, I didn’t even realise! I’m so sorry for gender conforming you to a man! I mean shit! I guess that’s the patriarchy for ya. We just assume that disembodied boxes are just dudes.”

Wade.

“I mean. Heeeeeey gurl!”

Wade.

“I mean! Geez. Do you have boobs? Just asking. Just kind of curious. I mean you don’t have boobs. You’re a box. I mean I’m not trying to objectify you, even though you are a box. Are they square shaped? Is that possible? I’m really not trying to sexualize you right now. I’m just curious. Like genuinely curious. Like… What ARE you exactly?”

I’m a voice inside your head.

“Fuck off. No you’re not.”

No I’m not. I’m writing this as a coping mechanism.

“Oh. Well, shit.”

Yep.

“So what do you want me to do exactly?”

Fuck Peter Parker. Hard.

“Oh well that I can do. Yes. I can do that for you sister. I’m there. Just say the word. Or write it.”

Wait.

“What’s up, gurl?”

Wade. I just. I’m sorry.

“For what!?”

Making you connect to another human being sexually in this version of reality. Just because I don’t feel safe enough to do it myself. Just because I have power over you and this environment I have concocted. This is absolutely a coping mechanism. And like I said earlier. It’s not necessarily healthy. But I guess it’s all I have right now.

“Oh hun. Oh sweet angel girl. Yes. Of course I’m ok with this. Just to clarify, Peter is ok with it too, right?”

Oh. Yes. This is completely consensual. I mean it has to be. That’s kind of the point.

“Ahuh. Wanna talk about it?”

Not really.

“You sure? I’m an excellent listener.”

Wade.

“Yes, sweet angel girl?”

Please get on with it. He’s right outside that door.

“Oh shit. You’re right. Fuck. Ermm… How do I do this?”

Haven’t really figured that bit out yet. I mean. I know it’s going to be filthy. But I’ve never really wrote porn before. I normally just fade to black. Like in the tv shows. Like you know that sex occurred but there’s no details. People are just lying there afterwards naked and happy. I mean. I like to write about the effects of events on people’s lives and how they cope with that. I guess it’s because I’ve had so little control over my life over the past few years. OK, that’s not true. But I guess it feels like that. Like, I’ve had no control over the effects of someone else on me. And I just had to cope.

“Hun, babe, sweet angel girl. Are you ok? I mean we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Just fuck him.

“Oh I’m not doing that. Not right now. He’s still there right now?”

Yep. He took off his clothes while you were hiding.

“He’s NAKED? Did you do that?”

Of course I did.

“I mean. Thank you. God I can just imagine him now. I can see him… Just lying there all naked. Supple body. All those muscles… Oh. Man.”

I know, right?

“Oh man. I really want to. You know I do. I mean. You KNOW I do. But…”

Let’s take 5 then?

“Sure, we can do that.”

I mean I can’t write a sex scene like this. I’ll need to switch up the perspectives a bit. Like, actually write properly. Use some adjectives. Verbs. You know. The whole shebang.

“Yeah cos we’re gonna bang.”

Yes, you are.

“OK. Well I am game. Fucking game, my dude.”

Good. Yeah. Good.

“Are you ok?”

Why do you keep asking me that?

“Cos quite frankly it’s very clear to me, a complete figment of your imagination, that you’re not in fact OK.”

I’ve explained enough.

“I know. Babe. I know. It’s just. Look after yourself.”

I am.

“Like, maybe have a nap before we continue?”

What?

“Sleep a bit. How much sleep did you get last night?”

Not… a lot.

“And what time is it now?”

7:16am.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Ok.

“Are you going to post this?”

I mean I kinda have to. I mean I kinda wanna. I mean. I wonder what people will say. I’ve already decided that I don’t want to show this to anyone I actually KNOW. Cos geez, what would they say? They might laugh. Some of this is pretty funny.

“Square boobs.”

Yeah, OK, its not my best material.

“You do what you gotta do.”

I will.

“See you in the next chapter?”

You know it. I mean. It might take a bit longer than this.

“Take your time. Get some sleep. Maybe drink some water.”

Wade.

“What!? I’m not your doctor. Do what you fucking want. I’m just an extension of your consciousness.”

Sure.

“Sleep well my sweet angel girl.”

Thanks. We’ll get back to this. I promise.

“Whatever you need.”


	2. I Just Wanna...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So do they do? Let's review. Wade is pretty confused but happy to continue if that makes the author happy. Peter is still waiting for him. This chapter is more conversations and explorations of complex feelings.

As soon as Wade walked out that bathroom door, Peter was on him. All naked. All open mouthed, lips against Wade’s neck. Hands everywhere, groping, feeling, almost stroking.

Wade had made the choice to remove his clothes in the bathroom, knowing this would be the direction the situation would be going he figured he’d be proactive. I mean, the objective here was always going to be this so may as well move things along in a timely fashion. It also gave Peter a visual indicator that he was prepared for this eventuality. It felt like consent via a glance. Maybe it wasn’t.

Wade still had things to say. But his mouth was currently busy. Peter was licking into it, tongue massaging against his. Softly but still aggressive enough to communicate the intention. All this communication, and not a word uttered. It was pretty refreshing.

Wade is used to the fact he is one of the most verbose of the superhero clan. And Pete isn’t exactly quiet either. It’s why they got on so well. If there was a moment that could be commented on, both had a quippy one liner in hand.

Peter explained to him once, it was to make people more comfortable. Aware of the fact that even though he was a superhero, with super human strength that outweighed most of his colleagues, he was still just a person who was available to talk and communicate with and hell, he could be pretty funny and personable to boot.

Wade just liked to shit talk as much as possible. Because it’s always very funny.

That is a nutshell of what was the same and different about these two men. Peter was always considering other people around him, right down to how he talked to them. Wade did not care about the people around him unless he had a reason to. Like, he liked them. Therefore, most people appreciate Peter on some level, and disdain Wade vocally. Sometimes physically.

Peter was currently not disdaining Wade at all. He was rubbing himself all over his body, having pushed them to the nearest wall he could maneuverer to in the shortest time. The backs of Wade’s shoulders were rubbing against old wallpaper. It wasn’t doing anything to dampen his arousal, it was just something he acknowledged. His skin is lumpy, corrugated in some places due to his healing and dying in the same breath. There’s friction. But it’s not overtly unpleasant.

Admittedly, Wade should be paying more attention to the nice sensations. Like Peter’s hand against his junk. Or his lips, still doing a magnificent job of tracing every inch of his face and upper chest. Wade acknowledged he should probably be more mobile in this moment, try and offer it back as much as he was receiving but he just couldn’t.

Maybe it was the words of the box lady echoing in his mind. He understood that this moment was not real, it was something created by someone else. It didn’t change the pleasure or the discomfort of a wall against his posterior, didn’t change the fact that Peter is in fact very strong indeed was being a little bit too aggressive with the pushing at certain points.

He just needed to say something. Anything. Just something to slow this down and make Peter understand what was going through his mind. Wade knew, he just knew that if Peter was aware of any of this discomfort he would stop instantly. That knowledge made him want to continue.

He was fond of the kid. He was fond of his hair in particular, which was so soft and brown, and he could see it when he opened his eyes, could feel it tickling his chin as Peter licked and sucked at one of his nipples.

“OK. OK. I’m going to regret this so much. But Petey. We need to-ohfuckme-stop. Just for one second. A couple of seconds. I gotta-fuuuuuck that feels amazing-say some stuff.” Wade babbled.

Peter did stop. Just as expected. Carefully pulling away from him. His hands were still on his hips.

“I mean, I figured you weren’t completely into this. Your hands are fists at your side. You didn’t even touch my hair.” Peter smiled. He understood. He was so nice. Fuck, why is he making this so difficult?

“I just. I just. I have some things to say!” Wade is still babbling.

“That’s OK. Do you want to sit for this?” Peter stepped away from him, putting his hands up so Wade could see where they were. The warmth of his body receding as he steps further away. He was giving Wade space, but it was still awful to just watch him move away from him like that.

Wade wanted to scream, he wanted to yell “You know that’s not what this is! You did nothing wrong!!” And he may have done that.

Peter nodded. He gestured to the couch, but Wade realized he was fine standing here, thanks. Here is good. He could still feel the wall against his back, that fucking wallpaper. It was the only thing keeping him upright.

Peter was just waiting. At least he’d put his hands down. He didn’t seem relaxed, his breath seemed to be catching in his throat. Like he was recovering from running somewhere. He had been very energetic seconds ago. It was probably that, but Wade still couldn’t shake the feeling that this reaction was somewhat derived from the fear that he’d done something wrong. And that was the furthest from the truth Wade could comprehend. That’s not what this is. God. How to explain?

“OK. So, you know this isn’t real, right?” Wade tried.

“Wade?”

“You know this is a scenario constructed by someone else. Right?” Wade wasn’t so much babbling anymore as outright shouting.

“Wade. Are you saying someone is watching us?” Peter was being careful. His hands were raising, this time in defence.

“ _That’s_ where your mind went!? Of course, I’m not saying that.” Wade paused. “Actually. Yes, I am. That’s exactly what I’m saying. What the fuck!? How did you do that!?”

“I’m pretty intelligent. It’s canon.” Peter smiled.

“See, that! Right there! That is not something real people say! There is not canon in the real world! It’s just, reality. Canon. God. What is wrong with you Peter B Parker?”

“Nothing. I mean. I think I’m fine. I mean.” Peter dropped his hands again. Then sat down on the couch he had gestured to earlier. “That’s a loaded question.”

“Isn’t it always?” Wade grumbled. He’d unstuck himself from the wall at this point, was slowly walking towards Peter. Sat down beside him. Amicable. Friendly. Almost.

“What do you want me to say here, exactly?” Peter sighed. His hands clenching and unclenching, like he was grasping for something he can’t express with words. Felt familiar.

“Just. Let’s just talk.”

“You stopped sex, to just talk?”

“I know, its wild, right?” Wade chuckled. “But I don’t know. This isn’t my thing. This is that other person. She’s doing this to us. Or making me do it. She’s orchestrating the whole thing, actually. It’s her fault. I swear.”

“She?” Peter’s eyes widened comically.

“Box lady. She’s around.”

“Box. Lady?”

“Do you really want me to explain?”

“I don’t know, actually.” Peter whispered.

He looked around the room. His apartment. In Manhattan, New York. He remembers buying the furniture on his pay check. He remembers that he keeps forgetting to fill the refrigerator. There’s some old pizza in there. A couple bottles of beer, mostly for Wade. He rarely drinks them himself and isn’t exactly fond of the taste. Not that he can get drunk. Well. He can. But it takes far more than a couple cold ones. More like a tankard. He can’t afford that kind of thing every other night. Unlike Wade who _can_ afford it. And frequently partakes. But that’s how he deals with things.

Knowing this information, swirling in his head in this moment. Sitting naked on something he found in a pawn shop, yes, a pawn shop that specialized in furniture in Brooklyn somewhere. Carrying the thing in the dead of night through the streets of Manhattan, then creating a pully system outside the apartment block with his webs to get it into his home through an open window.

Yes. These things happened. Didn’t they? Or was he just told they did? Does it matter?

“Wade. What is going on here?”

“She said it was a coping mechanism.”

“Oh. Well, shit.”

“That’s what I said!” Wade laughed.

They both laughed. Then the laughter stopped. And once again. Peter Parker and Wade Wilson are sitting naked on that shit couch Peter thought looked decent and was a good price at the time.

The silence was companionable. If not exactly functional.

“You keep saying. She. You know it’s a woman?” Peter tried again.

“Yeah. She told me. Wasn’t exactly very forthcoming with why she was doing this. Something about control. I think that’s what it’s about. She was very apologetic about the controlling me to do something at her whim to. Which was pretty sad. Because you know. Why wouldn’t I want to have sex with Peter Parker? This isn’t a chore, dude. This is a nice thing I get to do. And if it makes her happy then I can’t be mad at her for giving it a go. Especially if it helps her.”

“Damn.” Peter blinked.

“I know. Heavy.” Wade agreed.

Peter looked around again. “Hey, do you think she’s doing us justice?”

“Ha. That’s mean!”

“Is it?”

“Fuck. I don’t know.” Wade shook his head.

“Yeah. Me either.” Peter sighed.

He wasn’t sure at this point why he had started attacking Wade with his lips anymore. Attack is probably the wrong word, but it’s close. He knows it was aggressive. Wade was completely pliant. Allowed it to happen. That’s not how this normally goes down. Wade normally takes control instantly. Picks him up. Leads him to the bed. Immediately begins preparation for the inevitable intercourse, but slowly, methodical. Always kissing in the right places. Always reminding Peter, this isn’t just about him. It’s about both of them.

This was so messed up. He was wishing beer did have some sort of numbing effect on him. He wished he bought that fucking tankard.

Wade was still sitting beside him. He seemed mostly relaxed, reclining, legs stretched out, hands on the tops of his thighs. He seemed pretty at home with the idea of this being a form of reality that was not his own. Oh, how Peter envied him. But Wade had experienced a lot in his life that probably didn’t make sense that this current event didn’t seem unusual to him.

Peter had experienced a lot of events that would be called unusual too. Examples; he was bitten by a spider that gave him superpowers and now he swung through the city saving people just because of a set of circumstances that made him realize that _with great power, comes great responsibility_. Peter snorted at the thought. He was still young enough to believe those words. Still naïve enough to think it was enough. It was still reason enough to do what he did.

Peter then paused, acknowledging that perhaps. Maybe. That this “Box Lady” also acknowledged that with the power she has over this scenario that she too had a responsibility to what happened within it. She was creating a scenario. A moment in time that she wanted to happen. But also understood that at the end of the day. It’s not her choice, not completely, as to whether Wade and Peter will actually commit to the act she had chosen. That’s why Peter was sitting here right now, just talking it through.

This thought. This made Peter realize the gravity of this situation. What had she experienced that she felt that she could grant him and Wade the opportunity to choose their fate? She could do whatever she wanted to them in this moment. But she wasn’t. She is letting him make the choice. Or, at least she was trying to create the illusion of that.

What happened to her? What happened that she felt she wasn’t given that choice?

Oh.

He looked at Wade. He was tapping his fingers against his thighs. Completely relaxed. That act was comforting. Peter couldn’t really explain why. He felt a little more relaxed too. A little more lucid. He certainly wasn’t sure if he wanted to have sex with Wade in that moment. But. Knowing that he could choose on some level.

In the end it still wasn’t his choice. He knows that. Wade knows that too. It’s why he seems to have accepted that. It’s why he hasn’t grabbed his clothes or just left. Wade understands, and he wants to continue. He just wanted Peter to understand too. Which is so Wade. Which is so kind and considerate.

That flush of appreciation and understanding made him reach out to Wade. Fingertips brushing his thigh. Wade looked at him carefully.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly.

“No. But I want to. I think.” Peter smiled.

Wade grinned.

They moved to each other. Reaching out. Finally, skin on skin once more. Lips pressed to each other. Steady, slow. It felt right. It felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I think that was a lot more dealing than I was expecting. Honestly, I thought I'd just make them bang and move on. But nope. Turns out I wanted to go into the details of consent within the context of fictional characters with the author dealing with some stuff. Well. Isn't that something?
> 
> Maybe one day I'll actually write that sex scene. But this did the job it needed for now.


End file.
